


DimiClaude Week 2020

by BuddyTheMeanPeacock



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mentions of Racism, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22082020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyTheMeanPeacock/pseuds/BuddyTheMeanPeacock
Summary: Series of oneshots for DimiClaude Week
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 21
Kudos: 134





	1. Lessons in Trust (Day 1: Trust/Winter/Dreams)

**Author's Note:**

> Life has taught Claude a thing or two about trust. Dimitri offers a lesson of his own.

Claude and trust don't mix very well. Never have, really.

Could anyone hold it against him, really? It wasn't like his upbringing gave many chances to lean on people. Quite the opposite really, and part of him does appreciate his parents for raising him to be so independent. He could handle himself just fine in damn near any situation because of it; you could only really know what _you're_ going to do, after all.

The other, quieter part of him wished his parents were just a little more sentimental. He thought he could trust them to at least do that much. Apparently even that was too much to ask for.

He still loves his parents dearly, but that was a good first lesson; he couldn't trust them to be there for him and his problems. They loved him, and wanted him to be able to care for himself. But in the end, they couldn't be expected to do more than not hurt him directly, maybe give advice if it were a good day.

Almyra herself made such lessons necessary; his mother never buckled to the venom spat at her, but that didn't mean the people gave up on their hatred. He remembers thinking that maybe he wouldn't receive such treatment. He was born and raised in Almyra, grew with her culture, her teachings, her tongue; it was all he knew for the longest time. How could they hate him when he grew along with them?

Quite easily, he learned early on.

It was the first assassination attempt on his life that taught him his second lesson; he couldn't trust anyone with his family's origins. At least, certainly not yet. Isolation in one's own culture bred contempt for those who dared challenge it in any way. It didn't matter whether he could speak of Almyra's history and love her land as much as any pure-blooded Almyran could; he was proof that there were those who could and would look past the borders of their home and still find happiness. That their _king_ would find it not with a pure-blooded Almyran woman, but some foreign "wrench," only poured venom in their wounded Almyran pride.

He wanted to change that. But he couldn't do it in his beloved home. Once he found out his mother's station across the border he lept on it, leaving his family and name to take up residence in Fódlan as Claude _von Riegan_.

He kept his lessons close to his heart, never straying from them, but part of him couldn't help but have hope of his mother's land being different. A good third lesson, that was; he couldn't trust ignorance to stay in one place. Fódlan was as Almyra was, loathe as the lands' people would admit it; surrounded by such vastly different cultures, and yet they chose to isolate themselves in the familiar and cast out the foreign. 

Hope was nearly killed, until he dug into Fódlan's history. Isolation played a vast role in its making, true, but there were signs today of potential shifts in tide. Rhea, archbishop of Fódlan, was shady and utterly untrustworthy, but even in her reluctance to see past Fódlan's borders she allowed Shamir as part of her most esteemed Knights of Seiros. Shamir Nevrand, more extensive digging into the strange name uncovered, of Dagda, who was only recently in _war_ with the Empire. 

Rhea was still suspicious, but it was a good sign.

A year after he came to Fódlan he found himself at the Officer's Academy of the Garreg Mach monastery. It was a perfect chance to uncover more of Fódlan's strange history, why this land also repelled the idea of outsiders. He made some acquaintances of some along the way, not so much of others. The Golden Deer house, the one he leads as a Reigan heir, mostly held him in some form of acceptance. Save for the one spiteful noble who was convinced of Claude's wicked ways, he got along well enough with his fawns. In his time at the academy, however, it became clear that there was one person he found himself gravitating to more and more often.

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. An odd one, to be sure. Raised in the harsh northern lands of Faerghus, and yet he was one of the warmest people Claude has ever met. Honest and sincere nearly- well, _certainly_ is closer to the truth- to a fault. Hardworking and steadfast, but willing to open his mind to others' ideas. Claude told himself it was him being perfect for his dreams of getting rid of people's desperate cling to ignorance that made him find time to spend with the prince. It didn't help that the mysterious new teacher chose his class, either.

One night in the library changed that.

He found Dimitri huddled over one of the few travel guides of Duscur. He remembered in his readings how horrible tensions between the Kingdom and the smaller nation were, and found himself shocked that the prince would bother to try and learn more of it.

"Interesting read you got there Your Princeliness!" He said, announcing his presence as he stepped around the table Dimitri sat at to stand at the opposite end.

So engrossed he was in his readings it was only Claude's loud voice that broke him out of it. Dimitri jumped, looking around frantically at who called to him. As though _anyone_ else called him by such a teasing nickname, and as though it wasn't the middle of the night. Any sensible person would be well into sleep by now.

Well, Claude could never be called sensible. It appears he shared that with Dimitri.

The prince's eyes finally landed on him, and he sighed before giving him proper attention. "My apologies, Claude. I hadn't noticed your approach."

"Ahhh, no skin off my nose." He waved away the apology with a flick of his wrist. Sitting down he rested his head on his hands as he leaned over the table. "But anyway, back to your nifty little book."

Dimitri tensed; barely noticeable, but Claude wouldn't be here if he hadn't learned how to read body language better than his mother script. Interesting reaction. 

"I don't see what is so interesting about it," Dimitri says, almost as though he read Claude's thoughts. "I am simply curious as to Duscur's history. It is quite hard to find, even here…"

He held back his tongue's want to say it was _because_ they were here that it was so hard to find. Such controversial thoughts didn't have their place right now. "I dare say that you wanting to know more _is_ the interesting part, Your Royalness," he says instead. "My unending experience tells me nobles tend to like not knowing what's going on around them."

A quick curl of fingers against old leather- a flash of anger, quickly controlled but existent nonetheless. Another interesting reaction. Dimitri looks away from him, his gaze distant.

"That," he says lowly, trying to put back on his proper princely tone but just falling short, "has been my experience as well."

He turns his eyes back on Claude, and it's his turn to fail to hide his slight flinch at the intensity of the prince's gaze. 

"Such ignorance has brought ruination to me and those close to me. If I allow it to fester within myself as well, then all of Faerghus will suffer the same fate. I will not let that happen."

Well. Color him shocked.

He has seen liars of the worst sort throughout his life. From those so benign as to only lie about how harsh they will be in their training of him to those trying to worm their way to his heart in order to properly silence its beating, he has seen about as much as one can on the subject. But there was one thing all liars, even himself, share.

They grow tired.

There was always something they slacked in to make up for the effort of being untruthful, of going against reality and crafting their own to fulfil their desires. His personal favorite was only throwing out just enough crumbs of his life for those to take interest but not dig too deep, never making bonds deep enough for anything more to grow from them. It worked remarkably well for the most part; it saved enough energy to work harder on those who it didn't.

But Dimitri was different. Everything, _everything_ he did was done with all of his spirit. Trying to befriend his peers, the swings of his lance on the training grounds, the way he throws himself to his studies- and now here, his relentless pursuit of the foreign's knowledge. There was a sincerity in his words Claude has rarely ever seen dwell within anyone, and never has he seen it be so intense, with the ease of one letting the current of reality lull them away. Dimitri just had so much _energy_ within him.

It threw him through a loop. But he couldn't help finding it…

"Interesting…"

Dimitri's eyes widened, shock replacing his fierce determination. "And just what is so- interesting?" The word forces itself out of him, uncertainty delaying its departure.

He hadn't realized he spoke the word aloud; he recovers quickly. "Oh, it's nothing," he lies. Then he takes a gamble, a spur of the moment decision his mouth makes before his mind. "I just happen to have similar ambitions."

Dread makes bile raise to the back of his throat; he holds back the urge to swallow it down, keeping his friendly smile up as regret courses through him. That was a mistake. He wasn't used to making mistakes, especially such simple ones as this. An internal tension within the Kingdom paled in comparison to the centuries long contempt held between Almyra and Fódlan. How could Dimitri understand the ramifications of his dreams?

"Truly? I was not aware of the Alliance holding any ill will towards anyone. Well, save for-"

He stops, the realization hitting him.

His smile faltered.

"Claude…" Dimitri says softly, and Claude felt his legs tense. He was faster than Dimitri, though the prince was closer to the door. He should be able to outmaneuver him-

"You hold such vast aspirations! Please, know that I will help you however I can."

...What?

What does he mean he'll _help_ ? Why would he _help_?

"Claude? Is something the matter?"

His concerned tone drew him out of his stupor. The smile that fell slid back on his face, his eyes corralled back into their normal size. "No, nothing's wrong. You just surprised me is all." He leaned to the side, smile still present but he couldn't stop his eyes from narrowing ever so slightly. "I mean, you're offering to help me out with quite the dream to say I can't really help with yours."

Dimitri relaxed into his chair, and his gaze softened; understanding. That was something Claude didn't expect. Not that he expected anything that's happened so far tonight.

"Claude, I am not offering my assistance in some attempt to wrench some favor out of you. You're my friend, and I want to help you. That's all there is to it."

He searched his eyes. Swept across his body. Replayed his words in his thoughts. 

Honesty. Concern. Sincerity.

It confused him. 

It made him want to trust him.

 _That_ scared him.

Dimitri sighed. "I see that you do not believe me. Very well then."

He got up, taking his book with him. For a moment Claude thought that he would leave, returning the book like the good prince he was before bidding his fellow leader goodnight and going to his room. It would give Claude the break he needed to gather his bearings and thoughts and forget this night happened. Return to his plans to gather the information and resources necessary to make his dreams a reality. To sort out the strange, long unfelt want to trust once more.

But Dimitri returned, not to his bed, but to his seat. He sat there, back straight and hands in his lap with a small smile on his face like a student eagerly awaiting his teacher's lessons.

"Please, you must inform me on what you've learned of Almyra thus far. I realize I would be of little help if I myself were ignorant of its history, and I figure you to be far more knowledgeable."

His words were dangerously close to saying that he's figured Claude's origins; he told himself his careless words implied he had done research as Dimitri has been doing his. He dare not believe Dimitri to be _so_ open-minded as to be unwary of a generations long enemy of his land's people, let alone that enemy's prince. His lessons of the past taught him that such wishful thinking was only good for a dagger in the back.

However...

"Sure, Dimitri. Better get comfy, because this is gonna be a while."

As he watches the small smile widen on his fellow prince's face, he allows himself to hope. As he told him closely held stories that drove away the apprehension and pressure of his dreams, a sort of happiness embraced him, warming his body and letting his lips uphold their smile with an unfamiliar ease. Dimitri's enthusiasm, his curiosity, his sincere want to _know_ was… odd. But not unwelcome. 

As he taught him of his homeland, he felt as though he himself was learning a new lesson. He might forget it some days, falling back to habits engraved into him, but he was eager to grasp it. 

A tentative fourth lesson; he may not be able to trust most people in his life, but Dimitri was an exception.


	2. Letting Go (Day 2: First/Last /Dance/Modern)

The first time Dimitri held Claude's hand he was uncertain and confused.

It was yet another bad night during his times in the Officer's Academy, where rest eluded him in favor of torment. Every blink brought back flashes of flames, each quiet second welcomed the screams of the dying. It had always been like this since the Tragedy, and only worsened since the rebellion. There was something about Garreg Mach that made it harder to handle, however. It was supposed to be better here, the people around him would be safe under the supervision of such powerful authorities, but he only felt more pressure build behind his eyes, in his lungs, dragging down his limbs. 

He was simply going to adjust. Claude had another idea.

He had talked to the Leicester heir enough times for him to think of the young man as a worthy leader, a brilliant strategist, perhaps even a friend. He hadn't even considered that Claude noticed his growing fatigue- a foolish thing to think, looking back. His other friends had simply left him be, gave him his space in an effort to be kind. Even Dedue, ever kind as he was, did not push too hard against Dimitri's refusal to sleep.

He soon learned Claude was more direct in his methods of care.

It started with a knock on his door in the middle of another sleepless night. His room was as silent as his eternal visitors allowed it to be, and the sound seemingly echoed because of it. He rose from his bed and opened the door to find the golden leader standing there, hands behind his head and a carefree smile on his face.

"Thought you'd be up Your Princeliness," Claude teased, though there was a hint of something else coating his tone. Dimitri couldn't pin down what it was.

He blinked at his unexpected guest. "What are you doing here?"

His question earned him a wink. "Why don't you let me in and find out?"

He hesitated for a moment, but in the end relented; there wasn't much Claude could do to him, truly. He stepped to the side and Claude casually walked in, as though this were a regular occurrence.

He turned to face Dimitri once he was in the room proper. His wink disappeared, replaced by a slightly furrowed brow. Dimitri blinked; he'd rarely seen Claude with anything other than a cheerful expression, ready to fight back any shadows that dared tried to come over him.

The look faded quickly, replaced with a familiar guarded smile. "You haven't been sleeping too well, have you Your Princeliness?" 

Before he could answer Claude continued. "Worry not! I've come to help with your little predicament. You," and his smile turned more genuine, if also more teasing, "need a teddy bear."

Dimitri winced at the idea. "My… apologies, Claude. I'm afraid I am not… overly fond of such things."

"Aww, really?" His smile widened. "Even if it's me?"

It took a moment for the word to register. Then another for him to form words. "Absolutely not." His words would be strong were it not for the burning he felt overcome his ears.

Claude laughed as though to prove it. "Come on, won't you even try it? I heard having a sleeping buddy can really help out."

"Claude, I recognize that Leicester may differ in their ways of conduct, but surely even you must see how inappropriate it would be to share a bed!"

"Alright, alright!" Claude looked around, a thoughtful look glimmering in his eyes. He looked back at Dimitri. "Then you can on your bed, _alone_. I've got another idea we can try."

It struck him then. "Why are we trying anything?"

It was odd for him to receive such attention, he realized. Certainly from someone without the natural penchant for treating others' distress. He would never say Claude is one of ill standing- quite the opposite, truly- but he did not have Mercedes' saintly patience, did not have Dedue's unbreaking loyalty. He was… well, he was Claude. And there was nothing wrong with that.

The answer he received made him consider rethinking his opinion on what that actually meant.

For a moment the carefully crafted facade of nonchalance fell from Claude's face. Worry shimmered in his eyes like the moon's image on a still lakebed, for him to gaze upon freely and lose himself in the wonder such a sight exuded. The look caught Dimitri off guard; if he were to be honest with himself, sincerity suited Claude far better than false levity.

"You look tired."

Such simple words, and yet he finds drawn to them, the honesty in his tone striking a chord within him long untouched.

As soon as it was there it vanished, his easy smile slipping back on. It didn't fit, not after such a genuine display; it was like a snake trying to crawl back into its shed skin. It wasn't natural. He didn't like it.

"Come on, just get back to bed. I promise I'm not gonna crawl in."

Finally he decided to indulge Claude, taking cautious steps to his bed and lays down. He received a satisfied grin for his efforts, before Claude walked to his writing desk. He lifted the chair near it and placed it near the bedside, sitting in it and placing his hand on the edge near Dimitri.

"Just what are you-"

"I was serious, you know. Having someone nearby can help out with going to sleep. Least, that's what I've been told anyway." He winked at Dimitri. "You don't want me on your bed, which is fair enough. Figured this could be a good enough substitute."

He felt his brow furrow as confusion set in. "Claude, you can not honestly think to sleep in that chair?"

He chuckled in response. "Don't worry your princely little head off. I've slept in worse places than this."

Dimitri looked at the hand offered. This was so strange; how long has it been since he's had someone sleep near him? He couldn't recall anything more recent than when he was a child, still innocent and unbothered by sins the future demanded he commit. When he and Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid would huddle together on the cold Faerghus winter nights for warmth, secure and safe in each other's presence, so sure that nothing could harm them should they stay together. 

This could never replace such precious memories, but it allowed them to return from the dredges of his mind, crawl through the screams and the flames and fill him with a long unfelt comfort.

He grabbed Claude's hand. It was warm. He quite liked it. His eyelids grew heavy, and he let them fall, allowing sleep to fall upon him. 

He dreamed of nothing. It was a dearly welcome respite.

When he later awoke Claude was still there, slumped over in the chair, his hand still enveloped in Dimitri's. He stayed there a moment, running his thumb along the back of Claude's hand, relishing in the warmth it provided. It held a life within it Dimitri so desperately wanted to cling onto, latch on this reminder of the living, this anchor that grounded him away from the shadows of vengeance.

But he knew he could not. It was not for him to decide whether to fall off this path or not; he has made his choice long ago. He could not allow the fleeting comforts of now stop him from avenging those who could not seek justice. 

This would not be the last time he would indulge in such distractions, but it was the first time he let go of Claude.

\---

This first time he held Claude close to him was right before the world he knew ended.

Remire was horrific, a stain on humanity that no holy water could hope to cleanse. The professor lost their father, and he felt their grief resonate within him as they hunted down Jeralt's murderer. And now they were ordered to go to the Holy Tomb, to receive a revelation from the goddess- as though her words could do anything for those who suffered in Remire, as though her insight could bring back Jeralt. 

Dread, fear, panic, anger, rage; it pounded in his blood like the footfalls of cavalry, threatening to trample him in their stampede. The demands of his father, his mother, Glenn, they grew louder and louder, until it was a miracle he could hear anything over their shattering howls. The night before their next mission, such an important mission to head to one of the holiest lands the Seiros faith preached, and he was tossing and turning, his head close to bursting in pain, his breaths quick and shallow, his body so cold from the hands of specters hoping to rip him apart for his pathetic results.

It was hellish. He needed it to stop, needed relief like a dying man needs water.

"Dimitri?! Hey, are you-"

He reached for the voice and latched onto it, pulling it closer, closer than the hands can reach, closer than his father can approach him, his mother, Glenn, all those who died in Duscur. A warmth, nearly lost in the chaos ensuing around him, and he crushed his face against its softness, curled around its meager form, breathed in its earthy scent. 

This was alive. _He_ was alive. 

He didn't know when he fell asleep; one moment it was dark, a cacophony of noise bombarding his senses, and the next it was bright, the only noise the strained breathing of the one in his arms and his own.

It took a moment to register fully what was in front of him. He felt the person in his embrace sigh. 

"Finally up?" It was Claude's voice that spoke to him- Claude's hair that his face was pressed against, Claude's body that his own wrapped around like a lifeline. He backs away from him, hitting his back against the wall of his room as he lets go of Claude.

Again.

He watched him stretch. "You sure can hug a man tight! I was sure I would suffocate in the middle of the night."

Horror coursed through, the thought of his desperation causing Claude harm making him nearly nauseous. "Claude, I-I'm so sorry, I hadn't meant to-"

He hand was covered by a smaller, warmer one as Claude turned and leaned to him. His face had none of its fabricated cheer plastered on. It was only a deep concern that swam within the depths of Claude eyes.

"Don't apologize," he told him, and by the goddess, his tone made it seem as though he understood, that tone that lacked judgment or fear. "I'm here if you need it, alright?"

Dimitri shook his head. "Why?"

He couldn't understand why Claude was here, why he cared, when it seemed like his fellow leader held so few things close to his heart. What could Dimitri have done to deserve such kindness, such compassion, from one so used to falsehoods?

There was a pause as Claude looked at him, and then looked away. He sighed, and a small smile, earnest in its uncertainty, graced his lips.

"I don't know."

He tightened his hold on Dimitri's hand as he lifted his gaze back to him. "Just… know that I am, okay Dimitri?"

He rose from his bed then, his hand leaving Dimitri's, and he had the urge to grab hold of it nearly overtake him. A wretched, familiar cold took the place of Claude's warmth. He wanted it gone, wanted nothing else than for the warmth to stay with him until he's breathed his last.

"How selfish. You've gotten more than you've earned and yet you still beg for more. Such a disgusting pig you are."

"Dimitri, why are you lazing about? Is this measly distraction more worthy of your time than your family?"

"How tragic, Dimitri. Am I not important enough? Could I not replace your true blood in your heart? Am I why you won't avenge us?"

This would not be the last time their voices overrode those of the living, but it was the first time they overrode Claude's.

\---

The first time he saw Claude in a true battle was he was demented and crazed.

War was hell, and he a demon. Five years spent fermenting in the commands of the fallen, killing all who would dare try and stand in his way, and he welcomed the ruination it brought upon him with open arms. A disgrace he was and always has been, he earned nothing more than to be a beast, feasting on the living to appease the anguish of the dead.

He stumbled and lost his way at times, he was told insistently by his family. Dedue's return, the killing of those on the Great Bridge, he dared allowed them to focus his efforts on anything other than their vengeance. It was only a moment, only seconds in the years he's put forth in his mission. Nothing of the sort would happen again; he would not allow it.

Word of Edelgard's presence at Gronder reached them, and the voices roared. It was only a matter of weeks, a month at most, before justice could be delivered to those damned to suffer until it was received. It filled his thoughts, his words, his swings of his lance and his howls on the battlefield. 

And then the day came, and Claude was there.

Claude, who had no right to be there. Claude, whom he hadn't seen in half a decade. Claude, who flew in front of him, in between him and the witch.

Glenn demanded his blood. His father and mother screamed their agreement.

Dimitri let out a noise through his gritted teeth, tightened his death grip on his spear as he looked up at the determined verdant eyes. Up at understanding eyes. Up at familiar eyes.

He took his lance and threw it.

It pierced through the wing of his mount and it crashed with a screech, its rider falling with it. He landed on his arm, and a sickening _crunch_ resounded in the air between them. He watched Claude bite down on his lip, blood spurting from the force.

He walked over and retrieved his lance.

"Retreat, Claude. You've no business dying here."

He turned, his father's reprimands echoing in his ears, and left Claude. 

Again.

This would not be the last time he showed mercy, but it was the first time he fought to do so against his beastly urges.

\---

The first time he rescued Claude he was determined and confident.

The letter came to them not too long ago, before they retook Fhirdiad, before Dimitri had recovered, before Claude had any right to have any faith in him. A man with his intellect would have deemed Dimitri a lost cause, would have- should have- thought of some other means of countering the forces coming for them. Claude was a man of many talents, capable of any number of feats; he was sure he could have come up with anything more reliable than the crazed beast he last saw Dimitri as.

But he didn't. Claude placed his fate in Dimitri's hands, believed him capable of forcing himself to recover.

Dimitri did not let him down.

He stood there, his step-uncle's body laid before his feet. He shook his head, clearing it of his stepmother's cries as he walked over to Claude.

Claude, alive. Claude, his smile warm and genuine. Claude, _here_.

He held back the urge to embrace him, hold him against his chest and relish in the familiar warmth he knew was there, held back the thousand apologies that threatened to spill from his lips for his cruelty.

"Will you join us?" He says instead.

The smile turned melancholy, and Dimitri felt sick at the sight. "Sorry, but I can't stay. I've got business elsewhere." A second passes and he chuckles, a playful tilt to his lips. "Aw, don't look so sad Your Kingliness! I'm not gonna just go without leaving behind some gifts for you."

And he hands him Failnaught. Hands him the Alliance. Hands him his faith for Fódlan's future.

Claude puts a hand on Dimitri's arm, the serious tint to his eyes betraying the teasing smirk.

"I'll come back once I'm done. I promise."

He nods. Claude takes his arm away, and Dimitri barely wins the war within himself to allow Claude to leave.

Again.

As he watches Claude walk away, taking his warmth, his sincere concern and care, his verdant eyes that pierced through him and locked on despite the horrors they've seen within him, Dimitri makes a vow. A vow to the living, a vow to himself.

This wasn't the first time he let Claude go.

It was the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No chapter summary yet cuz lol can't think of one at like 11:30 PM oops!! Took a bit to write this lmao but got it finished before the day technically ended


	3. Stars and Moom (Day 3: Sun/Moon/Stars)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short conversation between bearers of celestial Crests.

"You know, they're pretty fitting. Our Crests, I mean."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. People love lookin' at the stars. Make time outta their night to watch 'em. And the stars help the lost, a guiding path to those who need it. The moon? It's nice when it's there, but people'll come out at night without it, ya know? I know I always have."

"Well... I suppose it is a good thing the stars surround the moon then. Otherwise, I fear the moon would get rather lonely. Don't you agree?"

"...Yeah. Guess so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By far my shortest contribution for DimiClaude week, I've actually written this some time ago but it fit this theme quite well so yeah


	4. View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion of scars and their meanings.

"You sure you shouldn't get that checked out?"

Dimitri shook his head. Such a sentiment was common when people first lay their sights of his scars. "The wounds are quite old. It's been nearly a decade since I've received them."

Claude's eyes widened. "A decade…?" Then his mind, sharp as ever, pieced together when such injuries would have occurred. "Ah, sorry. I'm sure that's a sensitive topic for you. I promise not to stare."

"You've no need to worry, Claude. It brings me no shame to have others see these scars I bear." He finds himself repeating words said to another of his closest friends, another precious light that graced his life. "It makes me think that it was worthwhile that someone like me survived what happened."

He lived through the Tragedy, so that he could give his body to protect those who could not protect themselves. The scars he bore proved such, and he would not want them gone for anything, would not feel mortification from the staring eyes' of those around him. It would be a disservice to those whom he loved to do so.

Claude nodded, a pensive look on his face. "I see…" 

He looked at Dimitri, the look fading. "You know, back where I'm from scars are also revered. They show that you were stronger than whatever force it was that was trying to kill you. Kinda like… trophies, I guess. A reward for the victory you earned." He smiled at him then, small but true. "I hope you feel so positively about that eye of yours."

At that Dimitri breaks eye contact, the sudden wish striking an uncomfortable chord within him. "I'm… afraid I don't. It is not the same."

This scar, the loss of his eye, was a reminder of the monster he allowed himself to morph into. It was a permanent marker of the sins and atrocities he committed for five long, agonizing years. He deserved such a reminder; he had no right to escape his cruelties unscathed. That did not stop his desire to hide it away.

"Really?" Claude steps closer, his smile widening ever so slightly. "Well, I'm glad it's there. It's another sign of your strength. Another sign that you lived. That you're  _ alive _ ."

Dimitri couldn't stop the hitch in his breath at Claude's words. They were… puzzling, fragments of a picture he didn't know the shape of.

He stopped close to Dimitri, his body not and arm's length away as he brushed the bits of hair covering his patch.

"I get you don't like it. You don't have to. Just know that this doesn't have to be bad."

He wants to hold Claude's hand, so close to touching his face but just out of reach. He wants to lean into it, this strange moment between the two of them.

He lets a smile spread across his face. "I… will think on it," he says. He will put these fragments together and gaze upon the full picture they reveal to him. 

But that will be later. For now, he settles with setting his gaze on Claude's smile, the way it lifts his face and brightens his eyes like the rising sun gives light to the land, warms Dimitri's chest as the rays melt the frost of night. 

He may not change his view on his lost eye, never view it as positively as Claude does, but he is grateful for the view it provided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Touch prompt kinda peaked its head around this drabble lol. Probably gonna keep mixing some prompts up haha


	5. An Unexpected Regret (Day 5: Fragile/Touch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude was rather fond of the new blanket his husband gave him. Dimitri is having second thoughts.

Claude loves the weighted blanket Dimitri had gotten for him.

A strange thing, certainly; he'd never heard of such a thing before his husband gave it to him. But then, Almyra never got as cold as Faerghus. The night could be something to watch for, sure, and he was never one to complain too much about the weather, but damn it, Faerghus was  _ cold _ . It drove him mad how little Dimitri and the other inhabitants of Fhirdiad would wear for how freezing it got. Though he guesses this year was worse than most; Dimitri was actually wearing a  _ scarf _ ! How utterly annoying. He was a shaking mess and here Dimitri was handling the weather like you couldn't have a cup of water freeze if you left it alone for ten minutes.

But apparently his distress was noticed, and now here he was, huddled tightly in the heavy blanket. It was so  _ warm _ , and a welcome change from the trembling leaf he was at night. Cocooned in the thick cover he was as snug as a bug in a rug.

Plus the bonus of Dimitri holding him more during the day.

He wasn't sure if it was a coincidence, but even if it wasn't it was still nice. An extra hug from behind, a few more kisses on the cheek, his hand held for a bit longer than necessary; such open displays of affection are… strange, honestly. He wasn't used to them before settling down with Dimitri, and he was sure it would stay that way once he did. He never thought Dimitri to be the touchy-feely kind of lover- well he was wrong there. Dimitri  _ adored _ contact, and there hasn't been a day yet where Claude wasn't reminded of that. At first it was overwhelming, and he'd had to hold himself back from reeling away from it. Nowadays, these years later, he could say he loved them, even if he still couldn't bring himself to return them as often as Dimitri gave them.

Tonight, as he felt what little of Dimitri's arms he could feel around him through the blanket, he knew it would be another good night of sleep.

\---

Dimitri fucking hates that blanket.

He had gotten it for his beloved to help with the cold nights that caused him to shiver and shake. Weighted blankets were a common thing among Faerghus' people, but Claude clings to the thing as though he'd never seen the sort. Considering where he grew up, there was a good chance he hadn't. At first Dimitri was endeared by Claude's attachment to the thick cloth, at him rarely taking it off when in the privacy of their bedroom.

Now he can't stand it.

The blanket was…  _ so thick _ . During the nights he no longer could hold Claude close to him and relish in the feel of his body against his. He could not bask in Claude's warmth nor give his own to Claude as they drift to sleep. The  _ damn blanket  _ was in the way. It was like the Ogma Mountains were between them, or if Claude was wearing a suit of armor. He's tried to make up for this loss by sneaking in more embraces and chaste kisses, letting his hand linger longer on Claude's whenever he could, and they help him get through the day.

Times such as now however, when he tries to hold his love close to him, have the feather soft locks of Claude's hair tickle his face, only to receive a face full of  _ damn cloth _ , he can't help but be upset. He misses his husband. He knows the blanket helps Claude through the night, so he cannot simply throw it away. It was  _ made _ for Claude, however, for his use and his alone; it was too small to share. Dimitri hadn't thought of the ramifications of gifting such a thing to his love.

This must change. As he pulls Claude closer and is reminded again of the thief of his touch, Dimitri knows this must end, for his own sanity. 

He forced himself to close his eye and sleep.

\---

Claude walks in their bedroom one night to find a large, thick blanket on it. He heard the heavy footfalls of his husband behind him, his special warning that he was about to be hugged, and he looked up to the blue eye above him.

"I hope this does not bother you," Dimitri says, a shy smile on his face. "The nights have started to get to me as well. I thought it best to have more appropriate covering for the both of us."

Claude chuckled. "Can't say I mind  _ more  _ heat at night."

They both retired then, crawling under the sheets. Dimitri wasted no time in pulling Claude close, wrapping his massive frame around him and stuffing his face in Claude's hair. He laughed. "Well, aren't you eager tonight!"

He teases, but he finds himself enjoying Dimitri's touch. He reaches up a hand to a bare arm and relaxes into its hold.

The warmth from the new blanket  _ and _ Dimitri were more than enough for him. He fell asleep with unfamiliar ease.

\---

Dimitri owed Mercedes the stars and heavens. She had managed to find a larger size of the accursed blanket for the both of them to use. He would be sure to thank the Goddess for her and her unending kindness, and to repay the favor tenfold, as was her deserving.

But now, now he breathes in Claude's scent, folds himself around his warmth, savors the feel of downy curls against his face. Gone now was the wall that trapped his beloved away from him, and he can now properly revel in Claude's presence. When he felt a hand grasp his arm, felt Claude settle deeper in his embrace, Dimitri thought he could perish there with no regrets. Or perhaps he had already, and this was paradise?

No matter. His eye closes in content, sleep taking hold of him with a facility he's long unheard of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off a hilarious review of a weighted blanket someone gave that had them missing their wife because they couldn't cuddle her anymore. Thought that fit these two in a fluff scenario pretty well lol
> 
> Mixed Touch with a bit of Winter for prompts haha


	6. Discovery (Day 6: Reunion/Secret)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri stumbles across Claude in the aerie.

He swears it was an accident. He hadn't meant to see it. But he did, and now it has taken over Dimitri's thoughts.

He sits on his bed, his face hot and firmly in his hands at the memory.

\---

_ The professor had wanted Dimitri to find Ingrid. They were busy at that moment and couldn't find her nearby, so they asked him to retrieve her for a debriefing on future flying lessons. He of course agreed to it, having nothing else to do right then.  _

_ The only issue was that it was getting quite late, and he had already checked the dining hall only to find her absent. He tried the stables: empty, at least of her specific presence. The only other place to look that came to mind was the aerie. He had no idea- and frankly, couldn't have known- that she was out to town trying to fetch her own Faerghus noble, presumably to drag him back to the monastery. _

_ He also had no idea the aerie would be nearly empty save for one person. _

_ That, he admits, could have been seen; it was, again, rather late, and few people were up at that time at all. Most would rather use this time to rest up early, perhaps sneak some last minute sparring matches in the training grounds. He hardly knew of many fliers in the monastery to begin with. He knew Seteth frequented the building often, and has seen Cyril take sky watch often enough to wager a guess. And of course, there was Ingrid, always tending to her beloved pegasus. _

_ The door was ajar. He assumed she had forgotten to close it entirely, too engrossed in the idea of getting to her beloved mount to think to close it all the way. _

_ He was halfway right. But it wasn't until he peaked his head in, wasn't until it wasn't Ingrid's long blond hair but a short yellow cape that he realized he forgot another frequenter of the aerie. _

_ Claude's back was not to Dimitri- that could have made it possible to forget this. No, he was in full view of the prince, far enough for Dimitri's presence to not immediately be noticed but close enough to see the features of his face quite clearly. His big, toothy smile was right there, his body shaking from laughter at the wyvern hatchlings clumsily falling on top of each other in his lap, on his shoulders, immediately around him. Dimitri vaguely registered the mothers watching over Claude, alert but clearly trusting him not to harm their precious young. _

_ It was so hard to focus on that, however. His attention was firmly on the house leader. The setting sun's rays filled the aerie with an array of warm colors, and they turned Claude's tan skin a mesmerizing golden bronze. His smile was absolutely beautiful, casting away the schemer persona in favor of a truly happy young man, a sight Dimitri rarely sees but always strikes his heart. _

_ If only he were close enough to get a good look at his eyes. How enchanting would they be? _

_ "Ohhh, you guys are so energetic today!" Claude's voice, brimming with mirth, made Dimitri jump. Luckily he was too preoccupied to notice. "I bet you all are gonna grow up big and strong, just like your mama's! Isn't that right? Isn't that right? But look at how cute you are now!" _

_ He petted two of the hatchlings, his cooing tickling Dimitri's chest. Those that were petted chirped contently; those that weren't nipped at Claude, though their bites seemed harmless. _

_ "Awww, are you guys jealous?" And he switched targets, resulting in the ones whose attention was lost nipping with even more vigor, until Claude fell on his back- _

_ That broke the trance, and Dimitri ran off, his mission forgotten as he bolted for his room. _

_ \--- _

He shook his head. Dimitri has never seen Claude behave in such a way, would have never even dreamed that he ever could. But he has seen that it was, in fact, quite possible for such to be the case. Did anyone else know? He couldn't believe that; such behavior went against the mysterious image Claude was so fond of. Mixed with how secretive he was and the fact that he was alone in the aerie pointed towards this being something he firmly wants unknown.

But now Dimitri knows. He knows Claude's laughter, the sound ringing in his ears like an old lullaby. He knows Claude's happiness, unmarred by falsities. He knows Claude's smile, how it makes his face glow with radiance.

He lays down on his bed, the fading sunlight coaxing him to sleep. He will keep this secret, this side of Claude no one is permitted to witness. But he vows to see it again, to grow deserving of being allowed permission of such a sight without the shield of ignorance between them. 

For now, he will have to spend more time in the aerie. Perhaps he can witness such a miracle again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Man i love how calm and collected Claude is most of the time
> 
> Me: What if he lost it at the sight of baby wyverns

**Author's Note:**

> Me: DimiClaude week is finally here! Can't wait for all the stories to drop!
> 
> Brain: You wanna participate but haven't prepared at all.
> 
> Me: ...this is fine
> 
> Hope these stories don't wind up being trash lmaooo


End file.
